Those are the words that have replayed in my
head all day - the innocent question of a teenage boy. No longer an orphan, but some of the time,
still acting like that is the only life he will ever know.
“Where does he really live?”
“How many elves does he have?”
“Can I ask him for anything?”
“How many toys does every kid get?”
“How does he know where I live?”
It was supposed to be an endless breakfast
that I didn’t have to cook… with a quick picture on Santa’s lap for the
scrapbook I’ll never get to. I had no
idea what was about to play out.
The thought process of a boy who only knows
the fend-for-yourself-life,
the orphanage-life,
the orphanage-life,
the get-there-first-life,
the beg-on-the-street-for-dinner-life…
the mind of that boy was on full speed, and he was determined to have his questions regarding this “Santa” guy answered.
the beg-on-the-street-for-dinner-life…
the mind of that boy was on full speed, and he was determined to have his questions regarding this “Santa” guy answered.
“Mom? If he goes all over the world, why did
he always skip me? Why would he skip Ethiopia?”
While he was questioning Santa... |
The mind of this very protective mom fumbles
for the right choice of words.
I remind him of our conversations about the
“Naughty and Nice List.” Then the conversation
starts coming together. We begin to talk
about life in an orphanage. He hasn’t
forgotten a thing about his old life. I
know we are replacing old memories with new, insecurities with confidence, fear
with hope. I know he will believe
anything I tell him, and I have to be careful with his trust.
“Remember how many boys were naughty and liked to make you fight?” I begin, feeling my way through his emotions. “I
believe you would have been on the “Nice List” even before you were my son.” I explain, “I am going to do my best to think like Santa. I have been talking to him every year at this
breakfast, so I think I know him pretty good.
I believe Santa would have brought you a present. But you tell me, what would happen if Santa
brought you and a couple of the other good boys a fun new toy?”
His liquid eyes squeeze up a little and I
know he is picturing such a magical day.
He final replies, “I think the
other boys would steal it and break it.”
“Then you would have felt really sad, right?”
“I guess.”
We both know that the big boys would have
taken it, maybe sold it on the street later or broke it open to see what was
inside and discover how it worked.
“I think Santa was protecting you. I think he didn’t want the other boys to fight you and take away your new toy. I think he didn’t want you to feel sad for loosing a new toy.”
“I think Santa was protecting you. I think he didn’t want the other boys to fight you and take away your new toy. I think he didn’t want you to feel sad for loosing a new toy.”
A mom just can’t explain to her little boy why
there will always be darkness attempting to overshadow the light.
A little more trusting and excited after our talk… and asking for a pair of Heeley's. |
There aren’t easy answers to many of his
questions, but there is reassurance that he lives in a family now that will
celebrate his new toy in a few days. He
has a brother and a few sisters that are going to cheer for him as he opens his
special gift from Santa. In the safety
of his family, he won’t have to think about someone taking that special toy
away from him. He will simply get to
treasure it.
He’ll know that Santa loves all of God’s
children all over the world.
Whether they were born to a teenage girl to
die on a cross for our sins,
or born to a mom that laughed at the news of
her pregnancy,
or born to a mom that wept on the steps only
to hand him back over a few years later,
or born to a mom that would die a few short
years later…
… or born in the heart of a mom when she was
a little girl and had to wait until he was a teenager to finally be brought
home to her.
This year, my little boy will know Santa will
always bring him one fun gift to enjoy.
However, it was Jesus that brought him to our
family, and that is one gift that cannot be delivered on a sleigh, cannot be
taken away and will grow more in love with each year.